Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Vox always thought that one day, at some point, Val’s temper tantrums would get them in trouble.

Turns out it wasn’t that, but his weird -and frankly annoying- obsession with Angel Dust. It seems that the King and Princess aren’t very fond of Val using him as his favorite fuck toy. But to be fair, (though for different reasons) neither is Vox.

“-an you FUCKING BELIEVE THAT!” Val screeches as he tosses a random glass a few feet away from Vox.

Said demon hisses as a drop of wine lands on his nice shoes. Fuck, whatever.

Vox gives a disinterested glance up from his phone.

“So you can’t use Angel as your punching bag anymore. Don’t you have like, I don’t know, hundreds of other sinners under contract?”

“But that’s not the same!” Val whines petulantly, “they don’t have Angel’s flair, that oomf , that gnene say qwa as the French like to say.”

“You mean jenes se qua ?” Vox raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t know!” Val tosses his hands up in the air. “The point is that I have to treat Angel ‘decently’ and ‘humanely’ and ‘let him have breaks’ unless I want ‘untold pain to be bestowed onto me, as fucking dramatic as that is. LIKE I HAVE THE TIME FOR THAT??” he grabs an empty glass from somewhere and slams it to the ground.

Vox sighs and turns off his phone. May as well stop it now before Val decides to do something stupid.

“Think of it this way,” he puts on his best smile, “they’re still in the delusion that it’s possible for sinners to be redeemed. But we know better right?”

“…Right.”

“And you know that they can’t keep this whole gimmick forever! Especially not with Alastor being one of the main faces,” he glitches slightly at the thought of the Radio Demon but quickly pushes it down. “Eventually they’ll be forced to give up, leaving Angel with nowhere else to go but with you.”

“Huh. I guess.”

“So all you have to do is play nice for a little while until it all comes burning down. That won’t be too hard for you, would it?” he gives Val a challenging smile.

The demon in turn sighs, physically deflating.

“No.”

And Vox wins once again.

“Of course it’s not. That’s why you’re the man in charge.”

oOo

Okay so maybe he miscalculated.

Truth be told, he forgot how bad Val was when holding in his emotions. While the moth was able to keep it together, barely, at the studio. The second he stepped out it would be a nightmare for everyone. Especially his fellow Vees employees.

Now normally, Vox wouldn’t mind volunteering a few of his own staff to satisfy Val’s violent needs, one can even say he enjoys it.

But it’s been weeks now and Val is tearing apart the workers faster than they can pull themselves together and it’s starting to become a problem.

And that is the last thing they can afford right now.

So naturally, they just need to try to find something else that would calm Val down. A way that doesn’t involve the staff needing up to a week to regenerate.

That can’t be too hard.

oOo

Scratch that. After some good old logic (and just a little bit of… coercing) Vox was eventually able to get Val to agree to try new things.

Only problem: Nothing. Fucking. Works.

Yoga? Turns out the bitch already does so and everyone knows how that works out.

Literal punching bag? Torn to shreds.

Breathing exercises? Ha.

General working out? There isn’t enough time in the world for the bastard to let it all out unless Vox is there to hear him out. Or at least pretend to.

Even crafts, CRAFTS, the thing that usually takes up 40% of Val’s brain power proves itself inadequate.

What the actual fuck?

Eventually, it’s Velvette who saves the situation.

“Try cooking or baking or whatever. Bitches on VoxTok seem to find it relaxing.”

“Except Mr. Legally-Blind-And-Avoids-The-Doctor-Like-The-Plague here can’t read a cookbook to save his life.”

“Rude,” Val mutters, crossing his arms.

“Am I wrong?” Vox challenges.

“Okay,” Vel bothers to actually look up from her phone. “Do you have any recipes memorized?”

“Uuuhhhh…” Val looks at her blankly.

Vox is about to call the idea off when the moth demons’ eyes suddenly light up.

“Stay right here.”

He rushes towards the kitchen and slams the door.

The remaining Vees share a look.

“If he burns the tower down you’re paying for it.”

“Fuck you.”

oOo

Contrary to what they believed; Val actually does not burn the tower down. Or even a kitchen.

It’s a little embarrassing to send the fire department on call away, but it’s still preferable to the alternative.

When the door opens, after recovering from seeing Val in an apron over a sleek short dress, Vox’s filters immediately detect what that smell is.

“A chicken casserole? Seriously?” Velvet makes a face.

“What? It’s the only thing I’ve got memorized,” Val complains.

“ Why ?”

“Because someone,” he points an accusatory glance at Vox, “likes their fucking casserole in a specific way. I had to adjust this thing so many times that it’s basically burned into my brain. A tragedy really,” Val sighs dramatically.

“After so many years, the only thing I can remember to make is Vox’s tasteless casserole.”

“Hey-!”

“But it should taste fine. Probably.”

He sits them down at the table and hands them both a plate. “Tell me what you think.”

Vox hesitantly takes a bite. It’s been a while since Val cooked anything, what with his sight increasingly getting shittier. So can one blame Vox for being a bit doubtful?

Yet as he takes a bite and chews, he’s brought back to his live days on earth when his mother made something almost exactly like this. As he looks at Val’s hopeful eyes, he’s reminded of the first few years of their partnership, when Val would make them this on special occasions despite complaining every time.

He swallows and gives Val a genuine smile.

“It’s good.”

“It’s okay,” Vel says nonchalantly, “could use some-”

“Paprika?” Val pulls out a spice jar with red powder, “I got you chiquita .”

Vel glances down at it.

“That’s chili powder.”

“Wait huh?”

Val brings the small jar up right to his eyes, squinting as he visibly struggles to read the label.

“No it isn’t.”

“Yes you idiot. It is.”

“Fuck you!”

Vox simply continues to eat the rest of his casserole, watching the two of them argue like children.

And if he just happens to be smiling as he watches, that’s nobody’s business but his own.

oOo

Alright Vox has really, REALLY miscalculated. Okay there, he admits it, can this whole thing stop now?

It’s only been three weeks, and Vox has ended up needing to buy another fucking fridge to contain all the casseroles Val had been making lately.

But what else are they supposed to do with all these fucking casseroles? Give them to the poor or the working staff? Please.

Now they can try new recipes, and they have, but for some goddamned reason Val always goes back to these shitty casseroles.

How disastrous is that? Even VOX is calling them shitty now, and those used to be his favorite!

Eventually it hits a peak when Vox walks in on Val in the kitchen, apron stained with who knows what and slicing two different chickens with four hands at an alarmingly fast pace.

”Uuuh Val?”

”Hm?”

”Bad day?”

”What do you fucking think?”

”There seems to be some… what is that?”

”Oh, I may have mistook the milk for egg whites but you know,” Val laughs manically, “can’t turn back now. Who knows maybe we can still save these. Fucking. Chicken. Casseroles.” He slams his knives down with every punctuation.

Okay, that’s just disturbing.

”And um… how long has it been since you’ve slept?”

”I have no idea.”

”Yeah…” Vox says slowly, “Alright sweetie. How about we put all this away and go to bed hm? You look exhausted,” the rare nickname drops like honey in his tone.

”Haha no time amor. I already have two casseroles in the oven and I can’t let them burn.” He laughs again, making Vox uncomfortable by the deranged sound, “Can’t let them burn.”

Alright. Well he’s lost it.

”Val, baby, I really think you should go to bed.”

”I just said-”

”Val .” Anger finally makes its way into his tone as his screen lights up, immediately entrancing the moth. Turning it off, Vox is quick to caress his shocked face.

”If you go to bed, I’ll join you. Rest does sound good, doesn’t it?”

”Uh.” Val blinks a few times, “Yeah. You’re right. I’ll um… clean up.”

”Oh, just let Kitty do it. That’s what she’s made for after all.”

”Oh. Okay.”

”Now scurry that ass up to bed alright?”

”Okay papi .” 

Val leaves as Kitty enters. When Val’s finally out of the room Vox sighs, collapsing on one of the chairs.

“What am I going to do with him?”

”It’s delicious,” Vox hears his own voice say.

”Huh?”

He turns to see Kitty looking in his direction, tilting her head.

”Of course it is amor, I made it.” Val’s voice says.

Static.

“Val. What did you do?”

”Why Voxxy, what makes you think I’ve done anything?”

”You made a chicken casserole.”

”So?”

”So what did you do?”

”Nothing! I’ve just noticed that your ass hasn’t consumed anything but coffee so I thought I’d manipulate you by making a dish you can’t say no to.”

”Right.”

The cycle repeats a few times before it finally ends.

Vox stares at the little robot in shock. Then he smiles.

”Alright, I’ll buy you that new duster you’ve been looking at.”

Kitty claps and goes back to working, quickly pulling out Val’s other two casseroles.

“Oh wow.” Those look like shit. Even Kitty makes a disgusted face. “Throw them out will you?”

She nods and Vox gives her one last smile before heading upstairs.

oOo

Vox walks in to see Val in his silk pajamas, staring up at the ceiling from his bed.

“I went overboard didn’t I?”

Vox shrugs his overcoat off to sit next to him.

”A little bit.”

”Why am I like this?”

”Probably there’s a medical reason to explain it. With you I wouldn’t be surprised by anything.” He lays down next to Val and pulls him in.

”We can try something tomorrow.”

Val only hums, snuggling against Vox’s chest. 

”Okay.”

Chapter Text

Val is a powerful cold-blooded monster. He’s strong, resourceful when need be, and not someone to be messed with.

When he takes one’s soul, it’s for life until the poor thing meets its untimely end. As soon as that golden paper is signed, there’s no standing up to him less you want untold pain to come your way.

But just because a soul can’t fight Val directly doesn’t mean they can’t get back at him in more… sneaky ways. It’s a risk, but it’s possible. Vox may own the most intelligent souls, but that doesn’t make every soul Val owns stupid.

And sometimes when a soul turns out to be smart in their unique way… well.

Let’s say it’s not just a pain in Val’s ass.

oOo

“What the FUCK?” Val screeches, looking at his reflection in angry disbelief.

His eyes are shit, but even they can’t miss the putrid puke-green chunks that glare at him, an alarming contrast to the rest of his white fur.

He’d been drunk last night, not paying any attention as he stumbled back home and collapsed on his bed, promptly passing out. When he woke up hungover, he’d missed how his fur had been slightly heavier than normal.

It was only after he’d washed his face, brushed his teeth, and begun to brush his fur when he finally noticed something was amidst.

Looking in the mirror, his heart dropped as he caught sight of the small puke-green masses littered all throughout his nice fluff. Gingerly bringing up a hand to one of the clumps, he’d been horrified to feel the rock-hard substance similar to days-dried cum.

So with that in mind, can anyone blame him for the unholy scream that left his mouth?

Obviously, if Val were in a more reasonable state of mind, he MIGHT have at least tried to force himself to calm down and think of a solution.

Unfortunately, that’s not what happens.

Instead, amid his panic he grabs one of the strange green clumps and yanks.

Another yelp tears from his throat as his fur detaches from his neck, drawing a slight trace of blood. The place where his fur had been pulled out burns as he stares at the green and white chunk in his hand.

“Kitty!” he calls, not bothering to keep the frustration from his voice, “Cancel EVERYTHING today. And make sure nobody gets paid for this time off!”

He doesn’t need to look away from his reflection to hear the familiar mechanical sound of limbs to know Kitty is already doing as she’s told.

This is going to be Hell (haha get it?) to clear up with Vox but there’s absolutely no fucking way he’s leaving his bathroom looking like a child threw up on him. Val may pride himself in being able to pull anything off, but even profound beauty has its limits.

Heaving a sigh, he looks down at his brush in defeat.

This is going to suck so much unsexy ass.

oOo

Val may pride himself in being all “tough” and “strong” when it comes to his employees, and in most ways he is, but Vox knows better.

Under all the crazy strength, all it takes is a firm tug on his fur and the moth is putty in Vox’s hands. One wouldn’t think an area of fur would be as sensitive as it is, but Vox loves it. Not only does it have Val gasping in beautiful pleasure, but it also shuts him up when Vox needs him to listen.

Yet as much as a softie Val can be, he’s still very good at his job. He’s impressively competent and the Vees rake in millions every month because of him. It’s why (even though Vox will never tell him this to his face) he’s such a valuable member of the team.

Despite what some may think, it’s not like Val to take days off. Partially because of the time between the editing process and actual filming, he already has a good amount of free time on his hands. The other part is because he’s a crazy sexual degenerate who takes perverted pride in striking fear into the hearts of his employees.

The last time Val had taken a workday off, he’d gotten his three arms and leg blown off by a drug deal gone wrong. Not wanting to look pathetic in front of his employees, Val easily agreed to a break until his limbs eventually respawned. 

But as far as Vox knows (and he knows everything) Val hadn’t had any drug deals coming up. So when he catches wind of a canceled workday, can one blame him for being instantly suspicious?

Now he could just look through the cameras he’d surreptitiously placed in Val’s bathroom, but he hasn’t seen the moth demon since yesterday and Vox already has a few hours to kill, so he may as well pay Val a visit.

Entering from the camera placed in Val’s room, he loudly knocks on the bathroom door, making sure it can be heard from over the shower.

“Go away!” Val shouts.

“It’s me,” he replies, not even bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice, “Do you want to tell me why you canceled today’s shoot? That’s over ten thousand dollars lost already.”

“Fine, I’ll pay you back later! Can you leave now?!”

Vox blinks.

Well, that’s unusual. Normally Val is a whore for attention, especially Vox’s.

“Uh,” fuck he can’t believe he’s asking this, “is everything… alright?”

“NO.”

Vox blinks.

The hell?

“Alright, then I’m coming in.”

“Wait-!”

A digital jaw drops at the sight in front of it. Through the glass door under the large spray of water is a mess of tangled fur mixed with odd green clumps. The shower floor doesn’t look much better, with bits of the green clumps littered throughout combined with soaked pulled-out fluff.

“The fuck happened to you?” the resulting look on the moth’s face immediately tells Vox that he used the wrong tone.

“I don’t know!” Val exclaims, clearly frustrated, “shit happened last night that I don’t remember, and I woke up like this.”

“Uh-huh. And I assume this is why you canceled your entire day?”

“What do you think?” Val glares at him, water streaming down his face and body.

For a moment, Vox considers telling Val to get over himself. Unfortunately, saying so would definitely do more damage than good, and Vox really doesn’t feel like being celibate this week.

Eventually, he sighs, giving up.

“Alright,” he shrugs off his suit jacket along with his vest and pants, “let’s get this over with.”

“What are you-?” Val’s voice trails off as Vox grabs a nearby stool. He then opens the glass door and steps in under the heavy spray of water, giving Val an expectant look.

“May I?” Blue-tipped claws reach out.

Hesitantly, Val hands over the brush.

“Sit,” Vox gestures over to the stool.

To the media demon’s slight surprise, Val does so without complaint. Quickly, he switches off the water and lightly grasps a chunk of his fur.

“What the hell is this stuff?” Vox mutters, not expecting an answer, “Hey Val, hand me some of your fancy shit will you?”

“It’s not called ‘fancy shit’,” Val retorts. Nonetheless, he does as he’s told.

Squeezing the stuff Vox recognizes as some kind of conditioner, he works it through one of the green clumps, gently using his claws to scrape through it. Finally, once it wears down enough, he gently runs the brush through the fur, giving Val’s shoulder a comforting squeeze when the moth hisses after he pulls a little too hard.  

After what seems like an eternity, he’s finally able to get that one handful of fur clean without pulling out too much of the soft fur.

“I don’t know how you get yourself into these situations,” Vox sighs.

Val rubs his hand through the newly clean area, wincing at the sensitivity. Against his will, Vox can’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy.

“You say it like I do this shit all the time,” Val says, removing his hands from his fur, “Trust me Voxxy, this shit hurts like a bitch. You think I would willingly get myself into this?”

“Of course not,” Vox placates, “You’re smart enough to not put the brand in danger.” Sometimes, at least, “I just think you can afford to be more careful. What do you think would happen if one day something more than just your fur gets fucked?”

“Uh,” Val turns to look at him, blinking cluelessly.

Sometimes he is so lucky he’s cute and a good lay.

“What is our brand all about Val?” Vox asks patiently.

“Perfection.”

“That’s absolutely correct. Now do you think getting fucked in ways outside of a simple petty prank would sell that look?”

Red eyes narrow at him before turning back around, both sets of arms crossing in a telling pout.

“No.”

“So what do you think you should do?”

“…be more careful.”

“What an amazing thought baby,” Vox praises, giving his fur a gentle stroke in a way he knows Val likes.

“Hmph.”

“Alright, alright. Do you want to get the rest of this stuff out or not?”

Val sighs dramatically but his posture relaxes.

“Yes,” he mumbles.

“Good boy.”

With that, he grabs another chunk of hair and the conditioner.

“For the record, you’re rebuying this shit with your own money.”

Val only laughs.

“Sure papi.”

It’s the brush that decides to give the fur an extra hard tug.

“OW. Fuck you!!”

Vox only laughs and kisses him on the cheek.

oOo

In the end, it takes all fucking day to get every one of those weird green clumps out of Val’s fur. Vox hoped that at some point they could have stepped out of the shower, but as it turns out the heavy spray after finally clearing out an area helped get the excess out so they were basically stuck in.

Overall, the process was slower than Vox would have liked but anytime he even began to suggest bringing in extra hands, Val quickly shut it down. Not having the energy to push, Vox decided to let it be and keep working. Still, every half hour or so they’d have to take quick breaks for Val to recover from the pain.

Finally, after countless hours Vox gives the fur one final condition and rinse, and it is completely rid of any trace of weird green chunks. There’s a good amount of that stuff and fur on the ground but Vox decides he’ll just let the staff clean that. He did all the hard work anyway.

Guiding Val out of the bathroom, they dry each other off and change into fresh clothes. Vox has to admit, maybe Val making him keep some of his own clothes in the moth demon’s room wasn’t such a bad idea. Too tired to do much else, Vox lets Val guide him to the bed.

Mindlessly, Vox lets Val pull him in as he mindlessly runs his hands through the thinner but still silky smooth fur. His motions come to a halt when Val lets out a pained hiss.

“Does it hurt that badly?”

“Nah, just sensitive that’s all.”

“I told you if we had gotten extra help-”

“I don’t want extra help Vox,” Val props himself up with an elbow, “you think I’m just going to let some useless nobodies touch this? Please.”

“You let your whores do it all the time.” No, Vox is not salty about that.

“I mean true,” Val admits, “but that’s only when it’s at perfection. And even then I’ll hit them if they pull too hard.”

“Is that so?” Vox can’t help but smile at the secret victory, “I never would have guessed.”

“Of course I would,” as if it’s obvious, “this shit’s sensitive as fuck. I just KNOW I would hate it a lot more if I didn’t look so damn gorgeous with it.”

Vox laughs.

“Hmm, I suppose ‘gorgeous’ is the correct word,” he sinks his hand back into the fluff, allowing his claws to gently graze the skin. Val lets out another grunt of discomfort but doesn’t stop him. He even seems to lean into the touch.

“You know,” Vox smirks, “I knew about your pain kink but this is a new level.”

“Is it papi?” Val grins back, “What are you going to do about that?”

Suddenly, Vox is on top of him, straddling his torso as both hands roughly grab the fur.

“I have a few ideas,” he whispers, watching Val gasp in both pain and pleasure. With a final smirk, he leans down to kiss his moth.  

Chapter Text

Let’s make one thing clear: this was not Vox’s fault.

Sure, he MAY have snapped at Val after the moth demon threw another fucking tantrum that cost a shit-ton of time and money (mostly time), and he MAY have said some shit he didn’t fully mean, but that still doesn’t make this his fault.

After all, he only said something along the lines of “You’re a helpless spoiled brat who can’t fucking last a day on his own, and I’m fucking sick of it.”

Valentino was the one who decided to get all pissy and decided to be like, “fuck you Vox!! You think I fucking need you?? Well, if you’re so fucking tired of me, you don’t have to deal with me ever again!!” before storming out like the fucking drama queen he is.

Now obviously, Vox hadn’t taken it seriously at first. Over thirty years he’s been with that asshole, and Val has never been able to go for more than twenty-four hours before he needed something from Vox. Be it to open his water bottle for him, manage a few rowdy actors, or (most often) to “comfort” him after the moth demon had a hard day and was pissed.

Hell, the second some idiot top actor made Val borderline seethe, Vox was already rolling his eyes, already prepared to deal with the oncoming disaster.

…Only for it to not happen. Instead, Val just slapped the guy hard enough to leave a coverable bruise and made him get back to work. He didn’t even throw a tantrum when the day ended and everyone left.

Which was… fine. It was fine.

Good to know Val can handle himself every once in a while.

But for some goddamned reason, Val has been able to take care of everything for a whole fucking week now. Every FUCKING challenge that comes his way, he has managed to solve it. Sure, his employees are getting punished much more violently than usual, but that’s not the fucking point.

How the fuck has Val managed to go this fucking long without killing somebody?? When has Valen-fucking-tino EVER been the type to have self-control??

More importantly, how long does he plan on keeping this up? Surely not forever right? RIGHT??

Not like Vox cares or whatever. It would be nice, for once, to be able to complete everything when it’s supposed to be completed and not have his assistant rush to reschedule everything constantly. Haha.

He totally doesn’t need Val hanging on his shoulder, talking about Vox being his prince, the mind-blowing sex afterwards when Val is calmed down, and he certainly doesn’t need the ego-inflating satisfaction of being the only one in the entire world who can calm the big angry monster known as Valentino down, no he does not.

It’s not like he needs to be needed by Val. What kind of loser would have THAT much reliance on another person just to feel good about themselves? It’s not like Val would leave him if he ever fully realized that he could handle himself just fine without Vox’s assistance. It’s not like Vox’s entire way of life would shatter apart if Val ever happened to stop needing him.

Hahahahaha.

Hahaha.

Ha.

Fuck, who is he kidding.

CAN THE BASTARD JUST THROW A TANTRUM ALREADY???

oOo

All in all, Vox already isn’t in a good mood when Velvette consults him on a new potion she concocted, which is apparently supposed to make people smarter.

Truthfully, Vox sees a lot of potential in a product like that. The ways he could enhance his own technology faster and Voxtek could have an entire leg above the already minimal competition is very tempting to say the least.

There’s only one problem.

“And tell me again, why the fuck are you introducing me to this if it’s not even tested?”

“Because, the potential side effects this can have on an ordinary soul can be extreme, and the usual guinea pigs are still recovering from the effects of the other batches.”

“And you can’t reuse them because…?”

He knows the answer, but he really just doesn’t want her to ask the next question.

“Because it could interfere with the other potions, which would not make scientifically accurate results you twat!”

“Of course, how could I be so stupid.” Vox rolls his eyes, only being a little condescending.

“Fuck you. Anyway, I’m wondering if I can borrow one of your souls for a bit?”

And there it is.

“I realize Val hasn’t been acting up lately,” Vel continues, “so you likely have a good handful of low earners you need to teach a lesson to. Why let such a punishment go to waste?”

“And just how long will it take for them to pull themselves back together?” Vox crosses his arms.

With Val, a gunshot or ten would will have them painfully dying but they recovering in less than two days.

As expected, Vel looks far too casual for this to be an answer that he will like.

“Only a few months.”

“Months?”

“Oh, calm down Vee,” Velvette rolls her eyes, “They’re still conscious throughout the whole experience, by the time they recover, they will be so desperate to not go through it again that they will aim to make more money. This works for you too, you know.”

Shit, he hates it when she makes a good point.

“Well,” he relents, “I suppose-”

The door slams open.

“Velveeeettttteeeee,” that oh-so-annoyingly familiar voice whines, “help me count these numbers. I can’t fucking see for shit and it’s pissing me the fuck off.” Red eyes land on Vox, whose stance stiffens.

“You know what?” Val says neutrally, “I think I have it.”

Vox turns to Velvette, who has a weird look in her eyes that he’s not quite sure he likes.

“On second thought…” Vel muses, “Hey Val, do you want to test out this new potion I made?”

Wait what.

“Wha-hold on just a minute,” Vox moves to stand in front of her, “what the fuck?” he whisper-shouts.

“It’s genius,” is her reply, “an average soul would take a month to heal up, but an Overlord as powerful as Val would heal up in less than two days.”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Vox turns to see Val has both sets or arms crossed.

“Well,” the media demon gives a tight smile, “I think Val will pass on this one.”

“I was,” the brat scowls, “but now I think I won’t. Hand it over, babydoll.”

That bitch.

“Your funeral,” Vox replies through his gritted teeth smile.

Maybe if his brain melts or something, Val will actually listen to Vox’s judgement.

A middle finger or four is thrown his way before Velvette hands him the potion, and Val downs it like a shot.

For a moment, the three stand there.

And… nothing happens.

“Well,” Velvette claps her hands, “this may take a while. Let me know if something happens in the next twenty-four hours.”

“And if nothing does?” Vox raises an eyebrow.

“Then it’s back to the drawing board darling. Cheerio!”

oOo

Against his better judgement, Vox indeed does keep a close eye on Val for the next twenty four hours.

Even after the time passes, Vox continues to watch him through his sharp camera lenses. After all, he has to make absolutely sure that Velvette’s potion didn’t do anything. Imagine he looks away and Val’s head explodes or something.

Now wouldn’t that be a fucking PR nightmare.

So yes, Vox will keep watching Val until he’s absolutely sure the potion didn’t do anything OR until he hopefully throws a tantrum that requires Vox’s assistance.

Almost two days later, something happens that almost makes Vox believe God is mocking him as some kind of sick joke.

First, the wheels to one of the recoding cameras breaks.

Normally, such a thing would have Val sending his actors home before spamming Vox’s phone and emails with a shit-ton of angry or frustrated messages until Vox can personally come to attend him.

But instead, Val has someone pick up the camera gently, and screw the wheel back on.

Which, okay. That’s… fine. It was an easy fix anyway, no big deal.

But then one of the main filming cameras themselves break.

For once, it’s not simply anything that Val can just not throw a tantrum over and be somewhat okay, it’s something that would actively need Vox’s attention to fix, as the technology in the Vee tower is under his iron fist. That, and Val only knows the bare basics of how these cameras work, there’s no way he would understand how to fix one that is this broken to that degree.

Check-fucking-mate Valentino.

Vox is totally not standing at the edge of his seat, casually-not-so-casually sipping his coffee when Val sends his actors home early and proceeds to stare at the thing for a solid minute.

Any second now.

Val walks away.

What.

Vox follows him to the back of the studio, where the large toolbox sits.

Oh.

Vox smiles humorously.

Oh this should be good.

He takes another sip of his coffee. This will be so fucking enjoyable.

Truth be told, it’s almost cute how Val maneuvers through the complicated piece of technology so smoothly, like the poor thing knows what he’s doing. Maybe Vox will even save him before the broken camera blows up in his face.

Honestly, it’s adorable how Val could think-

“Aaaand done!”

Vox spits out his coffee.

To his utter horror, Val turns the camera on and it works perfectly.

“O-xxx-oh HELL no.”

oOo

It is (rare) times like these when Vox regrets agreeing not to place any cameras within a four-foot vicinity of Velvette’s room.

He didn’t love the idea in the first place, but Vel wasn’t willing to compromise any further as apparently, she wanted “privacy.”

What a fucking joke.

It still doesn’t stop him from marching down there and practically kicking her door down.

“YOU BETTER TURN HIM BACK RIGHT NOW!”

“Jesus Vox!” Vel turns to him with a glare, “the fuck do you even mean?”

“When your potion makes someone smarter, how does it work?” Vox demands.

Velvette blinks.

“Uh, it’s supposed to shove the necessary knowledge in your head whenever a situation calls for it. Why do you ask?”

“So if some blind bastard broke a very complicated camera, the potion would give him the knowledge he needs to fix it?”

“Yes, but how do you- oh,” an unholy smile spreads across her features, “did it work?”

“What do you think?!” Vox snaps.

“Okay, did you see any side effects? When do you think the potion took effect? Any abnormalities that-”

“Velvette. Fix him.”

She crosses her arms.

“No can do Vee. One,” she holds up a hand before Vox can say anything, “I don’t have an antidote as the potion was just bloody perfected. Two, even if I did, I still wouldn’t do it because science.”

Vox is just about to release some colorful words when the door opens.

“Hey Velvette,” Val chirps, “my fur feels really dry right now if you want to know about side effects.”

Red eyes land on Vox as the moth frowns.

“Anyway,” Val turns back to Vel, “I’m going on a small business trip to the other side of the ring so don’t wait up.”

“And by business trip you mean…?”

“Some club over there wants me to buy them, but I need to check up on what it’s like before I actually make a choice. I’ll probably be out all day so don’t wait up!”

“So you’re just going to pretend I don’t exist now?” Vox deadpans.

“And you can tell the prick next to you,” Val raises his voice, “that his camera in room six was broken. Don’t worry I fixed it. That being said, see you chica!”

He turns around and makes his grand exit out.

For a moment, Vox and Vel just stand there.

And then Vox grabs Velvette by her dress.

“Fix him right now,” he seethes.

“Vox, if those talons rip my dress, I swear to god-” he lets her go, “why does this even matter to you anyway? I would have thought you’d like the break from managing that baby’s short temper. Besides, this may be one of the few trips he can go on where he isn’t a danger to others and himself.”

The sentence sends a pure volt of terror down Vox’s spine.

“Velvette, my dear,” he says sweetly, “what do I have to do to get you to fix him?”

“Vox seriously? Do you know how much fucking money-”

“I’ll cover the charges,” Vox smiles through his grit teeth as he barely holds down a glitch, “for both the potion making and the antidote. I’ll even pay you fxxxu-u-u-cking extra to just throw the whole project out.”

At that, Velvette’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Oh wow,” she says, “this really is pissing you off. Well, I don’t like the thought of throwing all of my heard work out. But,” she eyes Vox, “I like money more. So sure. I want the money needed for the antidote and twenty times the cost I paid to make the potion.”

“You’ll burn the recipe as well?”

“Of course.”

“Done,” Vox doesn’t even try to put up a fight. He’ll just take it out from his employee’s paychecks.

“Alright then, I’ll do my best to have it done in a few hours.” She shrugs, “if you want to give it to him today, then I suggest you stall him before he leaves.”

“How the fuck am I-”

“Not my problem.” Velvette chirps as she pushes Vox out, “Good luck, darling!”

oOo

In the end, Vox has to resort to the thing he really didn’t want to do. The last resort that he would have liked to avoid at all costs lest there be no option left.

He knocks on Val’s door.

It opens to red eyes narrowing down at him.

“What do you want?”

“Heyyyyy Val,” Vox puts on his most charming smile, “I was thinking, it’s been a while since we went out, just the two of us. I made us reservations on that one place you like, what do you say?”

Val only glares at him, a lower hand placed sassily on his cheek.

“I could help you find an outfit,” Vox tries, “do you want to go shopping? My treat.”

“Oh, so now you want to help me,” Val’s voice is icy, “what happened to being so fucking sick of me always asking for you?”

“Come on baby, you know I didn’t mean it like tha-”

“It sure sounded like you did.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t,” shit, Vox sounded too snappy. Quickly, he changes his tone into something smoother, “Look, I just realized that as your business partner, I have to be privy to whatever troubles you for the brand's good. You’ve been so unhappy baby, and sure your work is fine now, but we both know your creative side staggers whenever you’re upset.”

“Well, I wonder why I’m upset,” Val looks away, scowling.

At that, Vox grabs his hand.

“We’ll go shopping, get you a nice little dress, you can tear into as many people as you like, and we’ll go to town. You can have your business meeting another day. Let me spoil my princess, hm?”

He runs his hand through Val’s soft fur, internally grinning when he brushes across the spot that always makes Val melt.

“I suppose,” Val mutters after a minute, “that the club can wait.”

At that, Vox only smiles wider.

“Good,” he lets Val take him into his room. Upon arrival, he sees a ginormous stack of used cigarettes. When he looks to Val, the moth demon only shrugs nonchalantly before turning around to get something from his closet.

“Don’t think these were because of you, asshole.”

Secretly, Vox smiles.

oOo

Three days later, Val throws the biggest fucking tantrum of the year.

And Vox has never been more relieved.